


The Spider and the Sea Hag.

by BarPurple



Series: Once Upon the Seas [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Drinking, Gen, Magic, Magic-Users, Past, Pirates, Swearing, Violence, dark one - Freeform, deal making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:03:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6352651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This isn't the first Dark One Suze has met, but he is the most interesting by far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rumpelstiltskin’s fingers were tented beneath his chin, his elbows resting on the polished wood of the King’s table for no other reason than it annoyed the King’s sour-faced wife. The Queen kept throwing narrow eyed glances at him, her lips puckering in a way that made her look as if she was sucking on something bitter. Idly the Dark One wondered if she’d explode if he rested his boots on the table. It was tempting, but then again it was tempting to turn the woman into a bloody lemon tree, wouldn’t even take that much magic, she was well on her way to it anyway. He rolled his eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh as the King and his advisors circled back over the same pointless arguments they’d spent the last hour in. He slammed his hands down onto the table top and suppressed a little grin as the Queen shuddered.

“This is taking far too long. It’s very simple, dearies. Either you want my help, or you do not. Yay or nay?”

The King opened his mouth and Rumple didn’t need any gift of foresight to know that the words rising in the man’s throat were not the simple answer he was looking for. He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and echoed the gesture with his other. The King scrabbled at his throat as his voice vanished. The Queen actually smiled, curious? Could it be she found this windbag as annoying as he did? Maybe he wouldn’t turn her into a tree after all. He glared at the King.

“All I need to rid you of your little pirate problem is a simple yay,” He twirled his right hand letting it come to a stop palm up in the air, “Or a nay.” He repeated the twirling motion with his left hand and began rising and lowering his hands as if he was comparing the weight of fruit at the market. His eyebrow quirked as he waited for the King’s answer. It was getting to the point where he was itching to turn the whole bloody court into trees, trees moved faster than these fools. Finally the King croaked out;

“Yay.”

Rumple slapped his hands together and bounced to his feet.

Excellent. Signature on contract. Bye-bye pirates. Magic bottles mine.”

The King nodded walked to the table in front of Rumple. He avoided the eerie eyes of the Dark One as he scrawled his name across the bottom of the parchment. Rumple balled his hands in to fists to mask his frustration as even this simple act took far too long. He supposed it wasn’t the King’s fault his family traditions called for a dozen or more given names, but it had Rumple longing to deal with a peasant who would just make their mark with an X. This deal was already annoying him and as the King added the last flourish the doors burst open.

“Sire! The Sea Hag has been sighted. The treasury has been raided!”

The King rounded on the poor bugger and cuffed him across the face. The man staggered and Rumple let his straining temper off its leash. His magic whipped out and the King howled as it gripped and transfigured his flesh into wood. There were a few screams from the court and two ladies fainted. Rumple calmly hopped on to the table top and plucked an lemon from the trembling branches of the former King. He stepped down from the table and bit through the yellow skin and chewed for a second before he spat the fruit out.

“Bland, but with a bitter after taste,” he tossed the orange over his shoulder and fixed his sights on the unfortunate messenger. The man hastily wiped the blood from his split lip on his sleeve and managed something approaching a bow.

“You mentioned the treasury is raided. The enchanted bottles I seek would be stored there, yes?”

The man nodded, his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“They were the only thing taken, Dark One.”

Rumple sighed, “Of course they were,” he swore under his breath, just loud enough for the eyes of the messenger to widen in shock. He span on his heel, one long clawed finger pointing directly at the Queen.

“No need of the contract now, dearie,” he snapped his fingers and the parchment burst into flames, “But worry not, you pesky pirate problem is still going to disappear. Or at least wash up on the shore in chunks.”

He was rather gratified when the Queen simply nodded her head. Why hadn’t he dealt with her from the start? He could have been back home with his feet up in front of the fire, in possession of his enchanted bottles, instead now he had to track down a bloody pirate. He tugged the lapels of his coat ready to leave when the Queen rose cautiously to her feet.

“Dark One. The King?”

Rumple blinked, oh of course the lemon tree. He made a small show of admiring his handiwork. The leaves were still rustling, looked like the old windbag couldn’t shut up even as a tree; the elongated knotholes suggested a screaming face, but it looked more shocked that pained. Still, not a bad transformation considering the raw material. Rumple returned his stare to the Queen. She didn’t even flinch. Stony and sour; he was actually beginning to like this woman.

“Well I could turn him back, but that would require another deal and you no longer have anything I desire.”

His eyes had been fixed on the Queen as he spoke and even then he only just caught the slight curl of her lips before she got control of her features.

“Then there is nothing to be done. I apologise for wasting your time Dark One.”

She graced him with a low curtsey which Rumple automatically returned with a sweeping bow before he wrapped himself in a cloud of ruddy smoke. He exhaled hard as his feet touched down on the quayside.

“Going to have to keep an eye on that sour little Queen.”

 

Rumple needed information. He had the name of the thrice cursed ship that had stolen from him, (well technically from the King, but the deal had been struck so by rights the bottles were his), but there was something niggling at him about that name; the Sea Hag. The name made the echoes of former Dark Ones snarl, which was never a good sign. So information first, then plan, then messy dismemberment of the thieving captain.

A pair of brawling sailors erupted out of the tavern to his left. Aha, just the sort of fine establishment he needed, Rumple summoned his cloak and twitched the hood low over his face. He sidled into the tavern in search of a desperate soul who would give him what he needed for a price they couldn’t hope to pay in full.

 

Three hours later and Rumple’s temper had not improved a jot. In fact the increase of vermin in this vile establishment was living proof of just how bad his mood had become. He’d played his usual gambit of occupying a shadowy corner and letting the bar wench see just enough of him to identify him as the Dark One. She’d not even returned with his ale before the first man had approached his table. The rumour mill worked fast in this hole, all the better for gathering information. Normally. The stumbling block came when he mentioned the name of the ship he required information about. Then even the most desperate fools had become tight lipped and tried to scurry away without another word. He twittered out a giggle at that thought, because scurry away many of them had, just on four paws rather than two legs.

He caught the eye of the bar wench and nodded for another ale. He’d give one more fool a change then he’d leave. The ale arrived, but not by the hands of the wench, a hooded and veiled woman seated herself opposite him. Rumple frowned; she didn’t reek of desperation, more like determination. Well, she wanted something, so there was a possibility that he could make a deal with her. He couldn’t make out anything of her features through the heavily pattern lace that shrouded her face. Sharp black claws drummed a tattoo on the table top as he examined what he could make out of his guest.

“Now are you a well born lady, or just a servant who stole the finery of her mistress?”

The stranger’s shoulders rose and fell in an elegant shrug. Grace wasn’t a blessing exclusive to the nobility; in fact Rumple could rattle off the names of dozens of high-borns who moved with all the grace and elegance of a dropped sack of tatties. No help there then, but the little puzzle this stranger presented was mildly diverting, so he didn’t just rip the veil from her face with magic. 

“I don’t believe that is the information which you seek, Deal Weaver.”

Rumple smirked just a little. A clue, a tiny clue! He had many names across the kingdoms, but that one was unique to the Northmen, though her accent had a lilt of the Five Isles. 

“And can you tell me what I want to know, dearie?”

“Aye.”

“Your price?”

“I want nothing from you.”

Rumple ground his teeth together and took a swig of his ale to calm his ire.

“You’re taking your sweet time offering it up for free!”

“Because first I need to know how you will react to a warning,” she didn’t give him time to spit his waspish reply, “The captain you seek has powerful magic. Now will that deter you in your quest for retribution?”

Hum, she knew why he sought the Sea Hag; he’d left that little fact out of his conversations. Never give away more than you had to was a basic foundation for making a good deal. Rumple ran a critical eye over her and tried to decide if she’d been in the court chamber. In truth he wasn’t sure, he’d paid the vapid nobles the same level of attention he’d paid the drapes. His claws were drumming on the table top again, slowly and deliberately he stilled his restless fingers.

“I have very powerful magic and only heroes venture on,” his lip curled into a sneer, “Quests. I’m out for what’s mine.”

The stranger inclined her head and Rumple wondered if she was smiling under all that lace.

“In that case the ship you seek makes home port in Tortuga and her Captain is Black Eyed Suzanne.”

Names have power; that simple, oft forgotten tenant of magic was woven into the core of Rumpelstiltskin’s twisted soul. The instant the stranger spoke the name memories of his predecessors flooded his mind. Rumple’s self-preservation instinct kicked in and in a swirl of dark smoke he was transported back to his castle. He didn’t like poking at the memories of the others whose name had been etched on the Dagger before his. It left him reeling and defenceless. A bloody stupid price for the magic to exact, but that was the one it took and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He ended up on all fours gasping for breath as images fought for precedence behind his eyes.  
The tiles of his entrance hall swam into focus and Rumple swore violently. He pushed himself to his feet and rubbed his fingers over his throbbing temples. On shaking legs he stumbled into his spinning room and flopped on to the bench of his wheel. The jumbled images were going to take a while to sort out and he knew of only one way he could do that. The well-worn wood of his spinning wheel creaked into life under his long practised hands.

The sun had risen and was on its way to the western horizon by the time he stilled the wheel. His eyes clicked as he blinked a subtle accompaniment to the creaking of his shoulders and spine as he rose to his feet. With a thought the makings for tea appeared on the end of the long table and a fire sprang to life in the hearth. A grateful sigh escaped his lips after his first sip of the black brew. Rumple cradled the cup in his hands as he paced the length of the table.

“Six Dark Ones know the name of this captain. Two only heard second hand stories, so we’ll ignore them,” He turned on the ball of his foot and retraced his steps, “One other only had a fleeting encounter,” a high pitched giggle escaped him, “Ships passing in the night if you will.” Rumple’s eyes fell on the blank expression of the dragon skull that rested on plinth at one end of the table, opposite his habitual seat. He’d found it in one of the dusty distant store rooms, a relic of the dark wizard he dealt out of this castle. He’d taken to talking to it more and more recently, but it wasn’t the most responsive sounding board, though it did grin at his quips. With a nod he resumed his pacing.

“None of the other three came off well in their dealings with this sea faring witch. The Brute was a fool and deserved what he got,” Rumple dismissed the echoed grunt of the Brute’s memory in his mind, “Magdalene almost lost her flame when she tussled with her.”

That gave him pause. Magdalene was a dragon and the memory of the raging spout of sea water the captain had unleashed left a salt tang in his mouth. Rumple drained his tea to chase away the phantom taste and busied his hands by pouring another cup while he mulled. The lesson to be learned from Magdalene was not to under estimate the power of this captain. And possibly not set fire to her ship that seemed to rile her up quite a bit. Rumple eased himself into his chair and swung his feet onto the table.

“Zoso could have been killed by her hand, but she chose to fling the dagger into the ocean. I wonder how the Duke of the Frontlands got his fat paws on it?”

Rumple mused on that for a while, it wasn’t as if the Frontlands was anywhere near a coast. He shook his head, tutting at himself for becoming distracted.

“Now does that mean she doesn’t know the power of the Dagger, or that she does know and she didn’t want to take on the curse herself?”

He laced his fingers behind his head and stretched back into his seat. For a long while the only sound was the crackling and shifting of the logs in the hearth.

“Brute force doesn’t work. I wonder if she’d be open to a simple deal. I mean she’s only a pirate. She must want something, right?”

The dragon skull just grinned at him.

“Oh you’re no help at all.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tortuga is easy to find; there is no secrecy shrouding the infamous island if vice and sin, even honest traders and ships of the fleet would dock there, usually for less than honest reason because that was the nature of the place. Getting to Tortuga was a simple matter of gold and that wasn’t a problem for the Dark One. Rumple wasn’t happy that he’d had to seek passage on a ship, but his attempt to use magic to reach the blasted island had resulted in him getting very wet and having a brief bloody encounter with a sea serpent. It’s blood, not his thankfully, but it was still irksome to bounce off the warding spell he’d failed to detect and splash into the sodding ocean hundreds of miles from his intended destination.

He was certain the witch captain was responsible for the protection spell; the magic had the same tang of salt and honey that his memories provided. Hopefully arriving in a more conventional manner wouldn’t have the same result. He was beginning to wonder if these enchanted bottles were worth the trouble. A deep growl rumble in his throat, causing a nearby deck hand to drop the rope he was coiling. Of course they were worth the trouble, they were technically his and this sea witch had stolen them from him. There was no way in the seven hells he was going to let a sodding pirate get away with stealing from him. Not again. Still scum tended to float together, so there was a chance that he’d run across that wife stealing, cheating bastard Jones. The thought of finally squeezing the life from the maimed pirate cheered him no end. His high pitched giggle made the nearby crew edge away from him.

 

“The haul was pretty good and the captain found himself a new woman. Willing o’course Suze.”

The pirates at the table all threw Black Eyed Suzanne a fast glance. Rape was forbidden by the Code and Suze had been known to destroy whole crews who broke that Law. The pirates relaxed as the owner of the Harbour Inn threw them a gold toothed grin. 

“Oh I know, Skip, had a chat with the lady myself. She’s a good ‘un, reckon the crew o’the Crow will be minding their manners from now on.”

Skip laughed, “She must’ve been on her best behaviour for you Suze, she can cuss up a storm when she’s in a mood. Young Jacob looked like a boiled lobster when he heard her first loose her rag.”

The youngest crewman of the Crow gave them a repeat performance of his blushes, the ease with which colour rose to his face was exactly the reason Suze called him Scarlet. She leant across the table and caught his shoulder in her hand.

“Don’t you let them rile you Scarlet. They were all blushing wee boys once, the stories I can tell you about…”

Suze trailed off, her strange black and silver eyes no longer focused on the men in front of her. In a flash her pipe was between her lips and she was dragging in a deep lungful of fragrant smoke. Scarlet frown and tentatively spoke her name. He was hushed into silence by the older men, who watched carefully as Suze focused on the meaningless cloud of pipe smoke she’d exhaled. She rose to her feet, her tone a little distant as she said;

“Stories for another time lads, an old acquaintance has just come into port.”

The cloud of smoke curled towards the rafters as she walked away from them. Scarlet gave his crewmates a confused look. Skip took pity on him and decided to explain as best he could.

“First time you’ve seen Suze scry?” The lad nodded, “It’s just her way lad, don’t let it trouble you none.”

“Is that what told her it was an old friend just docked?”

“Doubt it lad. The sea tells her what ships come and go. So they say.”

Cuthbert clapped a meaty hand onto his shoulder almost slamming the lad face first into the table.

“Could take you till you’re as old as Grey Pete to hear all they say about our Suze.”

Scarlet’s eye widened at the mention of the oldest pirate he knew. He shook his head and gulped at his ale as the talk around the table fell back to normal banter. The ale was clouding his thoughts because he didn’t wonder over the fact that Suze talked about Grey Pete’s father and grandfather as if she had known them personally.

Black Eyed Suzanne walked out of the Harbour Inn’s back door wearing skirts and a bodice, a ripple of magic rolled over her and as her booted feet hit the cobbles outside she was dressed in brown leather leggings and a dark green tunic. Her hand drifted to the thick belt that now circled her waist and came to rest on the hilt of a cutlass that appeared under her fingers. With a determined step she headed to the docks. She’d felt the presence of the Dark One in the Kingdom of a Thousand Names. The very fact he had been there dealing for the bottles she’d stolen was the reason she’d been able to steal them. There had been a wealth of scuttlebutt about the latest soul bound to the Dagger, but she’d never expected him to come to Tortuga. None of the others had been foolish enough to try. Suze sighed and shook her head, she was a daft for trying to lie to herself. She’d seen his coming in the smoke of her scrying months ago. His past and future was so entangled with Poppet’s that every time she caught glimpse of one the other wasn’t far behind in the smoke. As usual such distant images of the future were all but bloody useless; the face of a boy; a stopped clock; a storybook, none of it making a lick of sense at the moment. It probably wouldn’t make sense until long after events had unfolded.

Suze reached the docks, not wanting to let this creature into her tavern, or on her island, until he’d made his intentions clear. He’d arrived on the Southern Belle, and that was reason enough to hurl the Dark One into the depths. Honestly who thought arriving at Tortuga on a revenuer’s ship was a good idea? The Southern Belle slid alongside the dock and dropped her gangplank. Suze stepped onto the boards and waved her hand. Every crewman from captain to cook froze in place. A high pitched giggle came from the ship.

“Hardly friendly. Is that how you greet every ship, dearie?”

“Perfect way to greet the tax collectors.”

Suze was certain she’d caught a tiny inhale from the Dark One, not quite enough to count as a gasp, but just enough to let her know he’d realised the error in his choice of transport.

Suze stepped on to the deck, refusing to look directly at the Dark One who was perched upon the rail between the main and quarter deck. She focused on the planks under her feet until she had found a place between him and the mast. Then and only then did she raise her black and silver-waved eyes to his. She drew in a sharp breath as she locked on to his gold threaded reptilian pupils. 

“Crocodile.”

Suze couldn’t stop the word from escaping her lips. The name Poppet had bestowed upon him was apt, the wiry figure before her was clad in scales, and only some of them were because of the dragon hide coat he wore. The rest were his own, this Dark One wore his evil soul on his skin; a strangely enticing mix of gold and green that shimmered in the light from the quayside. What Poppet had failed to mention in his description was the Dark One’s eyes, they were wondrous. Suze was used to the subtle glances and outright gawping stares her own eyes drew from people, being the one staring was a new experience. The Crocodile’s body had grown rigid at her single word of greeting and she could sense his conflicting emotions rolling from him. 

“That is interesting, dearie. Only one has ever called me that.”

The level of control and the forced air of casual enquiry were impressive. Suze licked her lips and flashed a gold toothed grin at him, time to poke the monster.

“I like to know the company I keep, who was the first?”

The Dark One dropped lightly to the deck and tilted his head to one side as he regarded her with a calculating stare. Suze returned the gesture, her appraisal of him bordering on a leer that made him fidget ever so slightly. He was shorter than he’d appeared while sitting on the quarterdeck rail, but what he lacked in height he made up for in eccentricity, his hands twirled as he brushed away her question.

“Tis unimportant.”

Suze shrugged, it wasn’t as if she didn’t know exactly who called him Crocodile. Still if he wasn’t willing to say, then Poppet probably wasn’t what he was after for now. Suze had put a lot of effort into keeping Captain Killian Jones alive and she’d rather he stayed that way. She made an elegant bow, keeping her eyes on his face, it caused her head to twist oddly, but there was no way she was baring her neck to this bastard.

“I am the captain of the Sea Hag and owner of the Harbour Inn.”

She didn’t offer him her name just yet, but he returned her bow with extravagant flourish.

“The Dark One.”

He pulled himself upright and grinned at her, oddly without malice. For a moment silence hung between them. He spoke first and she wasn’t surprised to hear her name form his lips.

“Black Eyed Suzanne. Not exactly imaginative is it?”

Suze laughed at him.

“Accurate though don’t you think? And no less descriptive than some of yours; Imp; Beast; Dark One; Spinner; Deal Weaver,” She grinned at him and continued, “Then again with a name like Rumpelstiltskin, it’s no wonder you’re happy to go by such titles.”

“I’ve never gone by Beast.”

“Oh I’ll wager you will.”

Suze wasn’t actually sure why she thought the title Beast would come to him at some point, probably some future scrap dragged to the front of her mind by his proximity.  
Rumple’s hand curled into claws, but this pirate witch just grinned at him, though her hand did shift on her cutlass. She had magic. He knew, could feel it flowing through her, but she chose silly steel. He had to ask; 

“If I were to attack you would you go for that blade you’re toying with before your magic?”

“I don’t think you’re going to attack me, yet. You’ve shown more sense than your ancestors. The last one came at me all magic blazing. Hadn’t had a fight that good in a dozen decades.”

Rumple frowned at her. A dozen decades? Over a century? The witch spotted his confusion and poked at him further.

“Time is hard to keep track of when you live forever, ain’t it?”

His eyes widened ever so slightly, but he managed not to twitch as he realised his mistake. He had listened to the voices of the past Dark Ones, but he had forgotten the sheer amount of time that had passed since they had lived. Damnation. If past Dark Ones had met her then she was old, very old indeed; Magdalene’s name was etched on the Dagger over four hundred years ago. Rumple forced his shoulders to slouch, adopting a pose of bored indifference as eyed to his claws. He casually asked;

“The name you carry is that a family title? Passed from mother to daughter maybe?”

“Nope.”

Rumple’s head snapped up only to find the witch smirking at him. She couldn’t be older than him, but as he focused on her he saw the weight of time on her, far more than he carried, but oddly less years. It was confusing to say the very least. His thoughts snarled from him;

“That’s not possible. Only the Dark One has immortality.”

“Aye, you keep telling yourself that.”

The witch backed away from him, only a dancing step as if she was inviting him to join her. It was tempting to dance to the tune she was offering with her puzzles and riddles. People were open books to Rumple, basic wants and no sense at all, but this one, oh she was so very different.

“Have you figured me yet, Spider?”

“No one calls me that.”

“But I will. Think it’s fitting. Sitting at the heart of a web spinning deals, just to find,” She tilted her head, the tiny shells woven into her hair ratted, her weird eyes flashed silver for a moment, there was a hint of pity in her voice as she finished with, “that one thing you most desire.”

The Dark One snapped his teeth at the passing reference to his son. The magic her hurled her way earthed itself in the mast behind her. The bloody sea witch didn’t even blink. Enough of this he was here for a reason and it wasn’t to be taunted by this black eyed witch.

“You have something of mine.”

“I have something of many a man.”

The phrasing stung a little too close to home, as did her cocky grin. Rumple had to yank on the leash that tamed the Darkness in his soul. 

“I'm not a man. I am here to suggest a deal. What I want for something you want.”

She cocked her head to one side and stared at him, her lips moving silently as if she was testing her words before she spoke them.

“Fight you for it.”

Rumple stepped back, his fingers dancing in the air before him, memories of his distant past itching to grip the staff he’d not used in near a century. He tamed them by linking his hands behind his back. His claws bit into the skin of his palms.

“You don’t know what I want.”

Suze shrugged and turned her back on him, she’d walked to the head of the gangplank before she paused and glanced at him over her shoulder.

“A man not willing to fight for what he wants gets what he deserves.”

Rumple drew in a sharp breath and heard rather than saw her fingers snap. He was swamped by the scent of honey and sea as her magic whisked him away from the island. It took but a second for the strange blue green smoke to clear.

“Fucking pirate bitch!”

A mixed flock of sea bird squawked and shrilled from their roosts at his cursing. Rumple wrapped himself in his own magic and vanished from the rocky island he’d been dropped on. 

The birds had resumed their roosts and were chattering their annoyance before Black Eyed Suzanne stepped from behind a tree and stared at the empty spot that moments ago had held a very pissed off Dark One. She sighed and pulled her pipe from her pocket. Her thumb ran along the rim of the bowl, but she made no move to light it. She’d be seeing him again, of that there was no doubt. She tucked her pipe away with a grin. It would be fun to wait and see what he did, he was unpredictable and it had been a long time since Suze had been this surprised by anyone.

She landed back on the Southern Belle and settled against the deck rail before releasing the binding spell on the crew. It took less than a minute for the captain to come striding over.

“Who the hell are you?”

Suze raised her head letting her hair fall back from her face. The captain shifted back a step.

“Black Eyed Suzanne.”

“Captain Erickson. I was not aware that revenuer’s carried passengers.”

Erikson’s eyes darted around the deck as he looked for said passenger. Suze sighed and to pity on the man who looked to be on the verge of pissing himself.

“Rumplestiltskin is gone.”

She probably shouldn’t have spoken the Dark One’s true name, but the blood draining from the captain’s face was too funny to miss. Under Suze’s stare the man began to babble excuses;

“The Dark One required transport. It would have been, well no one can refuse him. He paid a fair sum to be brought here. I have receipts.”

Receipts? Bloody hells this man was an accountant to his core. 

“I’m sorely tempted to relieve you of your honest earnings as punishment for bringing such an unsavoury character to my island.”

The captain swallowed. He too had heard the whispered comment from a comment from a deckhand that Suze was an expert in unsavoury characters being one herself. She nipped her tongue between her teeth to stop herself from laughing. She shoved herself upright and rolled her shoulders.

“Keep your gold, but it’s the only money you’ll get here. I will not be happy if you try to ply your trade while your ship is repaired.”

The captain's first response was to be irked by her description of the noble employment of tax collection, then her words about repairs registered in his ears and confusion darken his face. Suze nodded toward the cracked mast and laughed as his jaw dropped.


	3. Chapter 3

The foul mood of the Dark One was evident in the bruised taint of the sky and the vicious jabs of lightning that stabbed the landscape around his castle. The flashes of silver against the black of the night only served to remind him of the eyes of the pirate witch who had bested him. Rumple hissed at the window which morphed into bland stonework in response. He rolled his eyes and stomped away. His castle wasn’t happy with his temper and was reacting in a passive aggressive manner that only wound him up more.

Doors slammed and rocked on their hinges as the master of the castle pounded across their thresholds. Rumple was irked, irritated and to be honest, seriously fucking angry. Twelve days had passed since that black eyed pirate witch had banished him from Tortuga’s port. He hadn’t even set foot on the cursed soiled of the bloody island. A click of her fingers and he’d found himself on a miserable spit of land miles away from his goal. Rumple screamed his frustration at the walls as the storm outside replied with a sonorous crash of thunder. His claws dug into his palms as he tried to calm himself. The storm grumbled on as it had for the past twelve days. Slowly and carefully Rumple drew a deep breath through his nose and puffed it out through his lips. The storm ebbed away and after a long while a weak sun dared to shine a timorous few rays on the Dark Castle. 

Storming about in a vile temper hadn’t helped him get what he wanted, so now Rumple accepted that he’d have to ditch his original plan of a neat deal. After all she said he should fight for what he wanted so fight he would. It would be fun to teach a pirate just how dirty the Dark One was willing to get his clawed hands. 

 

“Lurch! Where the hell are those kegs?”

The tall man reluctantly popped his head around the cellar door. Suze was in a foul temper and had been for the best part of week. Lurch, whose real name was Mikhel, didn’t know what had put his boss in this mood, and wasn’t daft or suicidal enough to ask.

“Brought all the kegs up that you asked for Suze.”

“Did you?”

Suze twisted and almost tripped over the kegs that she claimed she couldn’t find.

“Neptune’s Bollocks!” 

Suze sighed deeply and Lurch was sure he could hear her counting under her breath. She raised her head and turned her now calm silver shot eyes on him.

“My apologies Lurch. Has been a rough few days,” She cracked her knuckles, “Bugger this, I’m off out for a bit. Take care of things and don’t let Peg Leg Pete have a drop of ale until he’s paid off what he bloody owes.”

Suze was already striding towards the front door before she’d even finished speaking. Lurch nodded and threw his boss a salute.

“Just as you say Suze.”

As the tavern door slammed Lurch finally blew out the tension that had coiled in his muscles for the past week. Suze’s moods were infectious to the point that even the weather had been foul. One of the barmaids edged up to his side.

“The boss okay?”

Lurch looked down at Fay. He stood near seven foot tall so was used to looking down on most folk, but for Fay he had to look further down than usual; she was scarce four foot without heels.

“Suze is Suze,” he shrugged and turned back into the cellar, “Feel sorry for the poor bugger that’s put her in this mood though.”

Fay’s wry laugh echoed around the near empty tavern.

“That ain’t true Mikhel.”

The huge man paused in the doorway, his bearded chin dropped to his chest.

“Suze in this much of a temper spells trouble.”

Fay frowned and watched the near giant lumber off into the dark of the cellar. She’d only been on Tortuga for a month and while she couldn’t understand Suze she had got a pretty good understanding of Mikhel. He was worried and that made her shiver. Fay was a practical lass; whatever Suze got up to was her business, Fay would only worry if she had to tidy up the mess.

Suze stood at the wheel of the Sea Hag. Her hands were nowhere near the smooth wood of the spokes; they never needed to be her ship moved where she willed it to. Or at least where it wanted to go, which was a good idea since Suze’s mind was currently preoccupied. Her mind was once again raking over the only thing that had consumed her thoughts for the past two weeks. The Dark One wanted the enchanted bottles she’d acquired, (okay, stolen, but pirate; theft was in the job description), but after his visit to Tortuga he’d made no move to take them. Why? The tales she’d heard of Rumplestiltskin claimed he let nothing restrain him once he’d set his course, so why was he delaying now? There had to be a reason, but Suze couldn’t fathom it. 

She’d tangled with Dark Ones before and had found them brutish and twisted, corrupted souls that craved chaos and destruction. Spider had a firmer grip on the darkness; he ruled it rather than it ruling him for the most part. He was the most human Dark One she’d ever met. He even dealt in contracts, actual written contracts that filled scrolls longer than Suze’s arm. That should make her want to keep her distance from him, but it didn’t quell her curiosity about him. Suze hadn’t met a written language she couldn’t read, but she had a deep distrust of all of them. There was a power in stories, but while stories were just spoken they could change and grow, dozens of versions could exist side by side without difficulty. Once the words were inscribed on parchment they were harder to change, that one version became the only version, and Suze knew something that very few did; once the story was written it could affect the players, hold power over their future and twist their past.

The breeze whispered through the shells woven into her hair and roused her from her near trance. She ran her tongue across her lips and shuddered. She recognized the ruddy gold tang in the air. Ah, he had been waiting. The Seas Hag hadn’t left Tortuga that was why Spider had not forced another encounter; he had been waiting for her to come out to play. Silly creature, he only had to ask. Suze threw back her head and laughed, well if this was what Spider was waiting for she would happily dance to his tune. Bless his blackened heart; this was going to be fun.

The tiny spit of land lay a bare forty miles from Tortuga. The little island was a safe mooring for those on their way to true trading, or those heading to Tortuga for a serious drink. It was too small to have a name, but it did have fresh water aplenty and just enough spare timber in case the need for emergency repairs arose. None of this concerned Rumple as he appeared in a cloud of smoke. He was only focused on the fact that the sea witch’s magic had sparked against the triggers he’d added to this place in the past fortnight. She’d dumped him here and he knew after pouring over maps and chart that this little island was close enough to her stomping ground that she’d probably sail by at some point. Reptilian eyes turned toward the horizon. Aha there was the salty thorn in his side. Rumple drew back his arm and then thrust it forwards letting all of the rage he’d built up during his temper course through his fingers. He allowed himself a shrill giggle as the magic he’d unleashed blew a hole in the timbers of the Sea Hag.

His laughter was quickly joined by some of the most blush-inducing cursing he had ever heard. In the midst of the shattered timbers he spied the very black eyed witch he’d planned to vanquish. The furious voice of Black Eyed Suzanne sounded across the waves;

“You blew a hole in my bloody ship you fucking son of a sea snake!”

Rumple‘s head tilted to one side as he observed the irate pirate scream at him. His chew at his lip as she clawed her hands and drew her arms in a complex circular motion. He took a fast step backwards as the sea bubbled and boiled by the stricken ship. It was pure curiosity that pulled him forward as muddy ochre coral crusted around the edges of the gaping wound in the Sea Hag’s hull. That was a neat trick; the damned ship wouldn’t be headed to the seabed just yet. The roaring crest of an unnatural wave brought the angry witch within feet of the Dark One before he had time to recoil. The silver waves in her eyes boiled and shifted with her rage as she hissed; 

“Nobody scuppers my ship.”

Magic slammed into to him so hard Rumple twisted head over heels into the air. He left a furrow in the sand as his boots hit the ground first. With scarcely a thought his left arm lashed out. The sand erupted as the rock beneath it rose as a solid wedge charging directly at the witch. She darted to her right, but the enchanted bedrock caught a glancing blow to her shoulder. Rumple grinned as at the sound of cracking bone, but his victory was brief. Suze’s undamaged hand whipped in a tight curve sending a wall of water at him. He leapt unnaturally high into the air, but the foaming crest slapped at his shins and sent him tumbling into the inky backside of the wave. 

Suze rolled her damaged shoulder and felt the joint grate as it popped back into place. She spotted the sopping wet Dark One rising from the wake of her attack and just had time to spin her hand and create a whirlpool under him before she ducked under the lick of flame he hurled at her. 

“Oh fuck!”

The smell of burnt hair assaulted her nostrils while coarse sand slithered under her hands. Suze tossed her head and the smouldering ends of her braids hissed out. A tower of stone erupted from the heart of the maelstrom.

“Yield or die Witch!”

“Never!”

Rumple dropped into a crouch as the rock needle lurched beneath his feet. The spray from the tidal force hitting his haven obscured his vision. A vicious jab of his hand sent a ball of fire at his opponent. His mouth gapped as it halted in mid-air and twisted into a roiling ball of water that flew back at him smacking into his face and snapping his head back on his neck.

“Ow!”

His magic hurled twin boulders at the cliff behind the witch while he pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead stanching the flow of blood that oozed from the gash above his eyes. The screech of rage caught his attention just in time to witness Black Eyed Suzanne vanish under a pile of rubble. The inhale of relief halted halfway down his throat and choked back out his mouth as a strangled cry when a whip of water hit him square in the back.

Suze burst out of the rocks Rumple had dropped on her and cackled as her jet of water slammed into the Dark One’s back. He fell from his perch his hands curled protectively around his bleeding head. Suze’s snarl of triumph morphed into a hurried curse as a bolt of purple lightening flew at her. She threw herself into the air, but wasn’t quite fast enough to dodge the sharp edge that sliced her calf.

“Bugger!”

The impact altered her trajectory and she tumbled clumsily into the waves. By her hasty will the heaving sea receded and Suze smashed into the sand almost on top of the Dark One. The force of her landing melted the sand into a bubbling pool of glass that oozed over boots then cooled into an onyx plateau.

Rumple spluttered the brine from his lungs and gasped in real air. Black Eyed Suzanne was panting just two feet away from him, but he couldn’t scrape together enough magic to throw more than a grain of sand at her. He slumped, his hands braced on his knees waiting for the final blow. When if didn’t come he rolled his head in her direction and frowned.

“Parley?”

She sounded as wrecked as he was, spent magic hung in a multi-hued haze around them. Rumple groaned his response;

“Parley.”

The recently melted sand popped and pinged as it cooled. Rumple gave into exhaustion and dropped to his knees then to his back. Suze toppled over sideways, the glass that had encased her boots as she’d landed splintered away. Neither of them spoke for a very long time.

Suze pushed herself up right and stretched her wounded leg out in front of her. It was healing, but since it was a magical wound it was going to take a while. Rumple groaned as he rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow, his other hand pushed his bloody hair out of his face. 

“Quite the work out, dearie.”

“You’re welcome. Let’s not do it again in a hurry.”

Rumple’s giggle turned into a pained hiss. Suze rubbed her aching shoulder while she corralled her thoughts.

“Fifty fifty on the bottles?”

“Aye,” The dim memory of a deal surfaced, “Oh would it be too much trouble to keep pirates from raiding the coast for a while?”

He’d burned the contract, but had said that he’d deal with the pirate problem, which technically he was doing right now.

“Just the Kingdom of a Thousand Names right?”

Rumple sat up and wished he hadn’t. He thought about nodding and decided that it wasn’t worth the risk.

“I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Fair enough.”

Suze stuck out her hand, and after a second Rumple clasped her wrist and shook.

“We have an accord.”

“The deal is struck.”

Both sagged with a weary sigh. Suze dug her flask out of her pocket and swore mildly at the dent in the metal. She pulled the stopper free and waved it vaguely in the direction of Rumple.

“Drink to it?”

Rumple fished his own flask from the deaths of his coat and raised it in toast to Suze. The both took a hearty swig. Suze sniffed and carefully pointed a finger at Rumple’s flask.

“What you got there, Spider?”

“I guess, whiskey is the best description.”

“Pass it here.”

Rumple cocked an eyebrow at her and winced at the sting of pain the gesture caused; his scales were throbbing. He handed his flask to the witch and watched with interest as she threw the lethal spirit down her throat. To Rumple’s grudging surprise she didn’t even shudder; most people passed out at the merest whiff of the stuff.

“Not bad,” she handed him his flask and offered her own to him, “Mead.”

Rumple carefully wrapped his fingers around the metal and took a sip. The honeyed taste slid down his throat and he smiled as he drank a deeper draft.

“Steady, that’s my own brew. It’ll knock you on your arse.”

Rumple raised an eyebrow at her and gestured at his seated body.

“Works fast doesn’t it, dearie.”

She grinned at his quip and took her flask back.

“Was it just a coincidence that you were there to snatch the very bottles I was dealing for?”

“Not exactly. You were the perfect opportunity,” She smirked at the mild annoyance on his face, “The treasury is made up of a labyrinth of tunnels, far too easy to get lost in. So, I figured why go to the loot, when I could just wait for the loot to come to me.” 

There was a long beat of quiet then Rumple started laughing.

“Very sneaky, I confess myself to be a little impressed.”

Suze joined in with his laughter, but batted his arm at the grudging compliment. Their merriment was broken with the odd hiss and curse as they helped each other to their feet. With clicked Suze’s fingers six bottles neatly packed in a straw lined crate appeared at Rumple’s feet. He glanced at them briefly then gave her a slow bow of thanks. She carefully inclined her head and back away from him, heading in the direction of her ship. Rumple looked over her shoulder and grinned when he saw the hole was healed.

“Until we meet again, Spider.”

“I’m in no hurry, dearie.”

“You’ve all the time in this world, Crocodile.”

He watched as the Sea Hag made an impossible turn and sailed away under a magical wind. With a grimace he stretched his back and gathered his magic to take him home. The ruddy gold smoke was already wrapped around him when her last words echoed in his head. Black Eyed Suzanne had called him Crocodile; she knew about Jones and knew about the existence of the Dagger. The heels of his boots echoed on the tiles of the entrance hall while he blinked at the enormous potent threat and usefulness she represented.

“Sneaky little witch. Guess I’ll be paying another visit to Tortuga after all.”

Rumple stepped forward and hissed in mild pain.

“Just not right now.”


	4. Epilogue

Six months later the Jolly Roger made port in Tortuga for the first time in over a year. Black Eyed Suzanne laughed as she welcomed Captain Hook with open arms and a bone crushing hug.

“Good to see you, Poppet!”

“’Ello Suze. You’re a sight for sore eyes, lass.”

“That I am, but I’m guessing you’d rather be looking at a mug of ale.”

Hook chuckled and let Suze pull him toward a table near the back of the tavern. Two mugs of ale were quickly brought by a pretty little wench Hook didn’t recognize. Suze waved her away and pulled a flask from the pocket of her skirt.

“Gift for you Poppet.”

Hook turned the green glass flask over in his hand.

“I have a flask, Suze.”

“Not like that you don’t. It’s enchanted, it’ll never run dry.”

Hook raised an eyebrow at his old friend. She wasn’t best pleased that he was working for Pan, but she’d given him a gift that would make his time in Neverland easier. He flicked the stopper free with his thumb and took a swig, it was filled with the good stuff too; sweet, but with a burn you felt in your belly.

“Thank you Suze.”

“You’re welcome, Poppet.”

He replaced the stopper and tucked the flask carefully into his coat. Hook grabbed his tankard and threw a glug of ale down his throat to drown the tender words that were trying to escape him. He was in no mood to get emotional today. A safer topic offered itself and he grabbed at it.

“You had earthquakes round these parts while I’ve been gone?”

Suze took a slow drink of ale and frowned at him.

“No. Why?”

“Sailed by a little island on the way in. The bloody place is a mess, looks as if it was hit by a herd of ogres.”

Suze sniffed and become intently focused on her ale. Her voice was just a little too innocent to be believable.

“Can’t say I noticed that, Poppet.”

Hook leaned back in his chair and grinned at her.

“What trouble have you been causing, Suze?”

Suze clutched her chest and managed to look offended for all of two seconds, before she broke into laughter.

“I may have had a little disagreement with a wizard.”

“Oh this I have to hear! Come on Suze, I could do with a good yarn.”

And a good yarn was exactly what Suze spun him, omitting only one trifling detail. After all, the name Rumplestiltskin would have soured the story for her attentive listener.


End file.
